


thirty eight point one degrees

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 00:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: It's very hot in London today.





	thirty eight point one degrees

"It's too hot." 

"Too hot for what?" Phil looks over the edge of his laptop at Dan, stretched out of the sofa dramatically. 

"To exist. It's too hot. To exist." He enunciates carefully. 

"We have aircon, Dan." 

"I know. That's almost worse. Because I'm going to have to leave it in like fifteen minutes." 

"Ten." 

"I can make it if I wait fifteen more minutes." 

"Not if the car is late," Phil says. "Or there's traffic." 

"Traffic schmaffic." 

"You should leave in ten minutes," Phil says. "I'll call the car for you if I have to." 

"You're not my real dad." 

"Glad for it, too." There's less humor in Phil's voice there. 

Phil's got a lot of opinions on Dan's dad. Most of them wouldn't be fit for viewing. Not that it's a topic he plans on talking about ever.

Dan sighs. "Yeah. You don't neglect me emotionally. You just neglect me by forcing me to endure deadly heatwaves." 

"The car will have aircon, too." 

Dan grunts. 

"So does your therapist's office." 

"Yeah, but." Dan whines. "I'll have to walk between them." 

Phil picks up his phone and waits a few more seconds to reply. "The car will be here in ten minutes. Put some trousers on, please." 

Dan flips him off. 

*

Phil's got an hour and a half in the flat by himself, maybe two if Dan goes for a walk after. 

He used to run. He used to say it helped him clear his head, and it was good training. He hasn't run since the marathon that wasn't, but he does still walk. 

Phil figures not today, though. He's just gotten off the phone with his mum, talking about how this is the hottest July day that's ever been recorded. Just shy of the hottest day ever, by four tenths of a degree. 

She rung him to tell him not to use the trains, because she saw on Facebook that it's so hot the rails will bend and cause collisions. He thinks that's probably an exaggeration, but all the same he's glad Dan's taken a car. 

Even their aircon is struggling a bit, but he knows it's nothing like the oppressive humidity outside. As it is he's doing just fine sitting in shorts and a t-shirt sipping a nice cold glass of water and waiting for Dan to get back. 

*

Some days Dan comes home energized after therapy. He'll come back sweaty and red in the face, bearing gifts of pastry or coffees. 

Some days he's just quiet. He slinks in like a shadow and takes his time chewing on the things in his head before he's ready to face the world, even Phil. 

Today is a quiet day. He disappears into the bedroom and Phil doesn't follow after him. Processing therapy thoughts is almost as important as the therapy itself. Phil's learned that, probably read it somewhere. He's read a lot of things in his effort to understand the things that Dan finds hard to explain. 

He thinks he gets it. They both need time to process things, they just do it in different ways. 

So he's patient and he doesn't push and an hour later when Dan emerges, Phil acts like the time didn't even pass. 

When Dan presses a kiss to the side of his head and says, "Thanks," Phil pretends he doesn't know what it's about. 

He just stretches his legs out in front of him and says, "What are we doing today, Pinky?"

"First of all, fuck off if you think you're the brain," Dan says, behind Phil in the kitchen. "And second of all, same thing we do every day." 

"Scripts, emails, or Mario Kart?" Phil asks. He stretches again, then slumps back into his chair to resume his former ill-postured position.

Dan ponders it. "I'll go for emails." 

He must be feeling better if he's volunteering that one. "Perfect." 

*

Dan hates emails. He tells Phil that every chance he gets. 

But he's still Dan, so once he's set his mind to answering a few there's nothing else that can crack his concentration for hours. He's got that urge about him, the one he's just trying to understand and tame, the need for his messages to come across crystal clear. 

Sometimes people get frustrated. They think he's being patronizing when he talks in circles and says the same thing over and over. 

There's nothing patronizing about it, Phil knows. He's just been too misunderstood his whole life. If Dan wants to use five hundred words where fifty would suffice, Phil won't be the one to tell him not to. 

What he'll be is the one that gets up and makes Dan a nice cold drink and brings it to him, that reminds him to unclench his jaw, that rubs his shoulders until Dan sighs back into the touch. 

*

"Martyn says they got up at three in the morning to see the sunrise," Phil says. 

He's moved from the chair to the other end of the sofa with Dan, their bare legs overlapping. It's later in the day now and the aircon is faring better. 

"I would actually rather die," Dan says. "You literally could not pay me." 

"Hm." Phil ponders it. "You could probably pay me. But it'd have to be a lot. And buy me loads of coffee so I didn't sleep at all." 

"Somehow I don't think Martyn would agree to that," Dan says. "He probably also wouldn't want you crashing the romantic sunrise mountain view or whatever. They probably meditated once they got up there."

Yoga they came around to. 

Meditating not so much. 

Phil just falls asleep when he tries it by himself, and when he and Dan try to sit quietly alone together somehow it just always ends up devolving into giggles. 

"Reckon I like it better being here right now anyway," Phil says. "Last week was enough outside for me." 

Dan smiles at him, a look of pure fondness. Phil isn't quite sure what he said to make Dan look at him like that, but he won't complain. "Yeah. Me, too."

*

Dinner happens, as it does most nights. Dan wants something healthy light and Phil just wants food in his belly so he relents to Dan's choice of takeaway. They split a meze of houmous, baba ghanoush, tabouleh, roasted red peppers, stuffed vine leaves and tzatziki so Dan can have his dip fix. 

(Plus a raspberry vanilla creme brulee because Phil is still Phil no matter the temperature outside.)

*

They watch two episodes of a tv show before Dan stands. "Did you leave any towels?" 

"Um." Phil can't honestly remember. "Yeah, I think so." 

If he didn't, Dan will just use one of the ones Phil left on the counter. Dan always complains about that but he always uses the towels anyway, so Phil hasn't felt much incentive to take more care. 

He does tidy up their table and put away the dinner leftovers while Dan's showering, though. He wants to be useful and he wants the pleasant surprise he'll see on Dan's face when Dan comes upstairs again. 

Phil's feeling quite happy with himself, standing in the kitchen with damp hands he wipes on a cloth. He looks outside, at the curtains they haven't pulled shut, and sees the city sparkling against the night sky. 

It's a sight he's still not tired of. He puts the kitchen towel on the counter and steps outside onto the balcony. The air is still balmy, but not as oppressive as the heat of the day. He breathes in deeply and he's sure his lungs are coated with a layer of London smog for his troubles, but he still enjoys it. 

This is his home. This is his place. Los Angeles was overwhelming with its aura of youth and aggressive pursuit everyone shared of something Phil hasn't quite wrapped his head around, the fame and the excess. The desert was overwhelming with the vast scope of it, the way it felt like it went on forever. Vegas was overwhelming with the lights and the glitz and the scent of smoke and money everywhere. 

London doesn't overwhelm him. London just feels right. 

*

"What are you doing out here?" Dan asks, standing in the doorway. 

Phil turns around. "You're naked." 

"Observant," Dan notes. "All my pants are still in the dryer."

Phil drops his eyes down, taking it all in. "No they're not." 

"What?" Dan's brow knits in confusion. 

"A leprechaun took them," Phil says. "No pants in there. Don't even bother checking." 

Dan rolls his eyes. "Oh. I see." 

"No," Phil says. "I think I'm the one that sees."

And then he takes a step forward, because he wants to do more than see.

*

He's not sure how they make the progression from kissing in the open doorway of the balcony to Dan's hand on his dick as Phil stares out the window in their lounge, but he's really not complaining. 

Dan likes it like this, sometimes. It's not really all that kinky; there's little chance anyone else is going to be looking into their flat, since they've got the penthouse. Even if they could, what would they see? Murky figures standing like shadows. 

They wouldn't see Dan's hand moving over him. They wouldn't see the way Dan's pressed naked head to toe against Phil's body. They wouldn't know what it feels like to have all that warm skin on his the way Phil does, or the way Dan's thrusting against his ass, or the hot breath on his shoulder. 

Phil reaches up and tugs at his own nipple just to feel the spark of it. His other hand is curved behind him, groping along Dan's hip just to feel whatever he can as he fucks into Dan's fist. 

He's chasing it, breathing hard in a way that leaves his chest burning lightly. He'll blame the heat wave on how little it takes to get them to the point where sweat glues their skin together. He'll need a shower after this for sure. Maybe he can talk Dan into a second one. 

He makes a strangled noise when he feels Dan's right hand cup his balls, confining them between Dan's palm and his own body so Dan can reach and press behind them. It feels so good, all the tactile sensations slamming into him. 

"Gonna come?" Dan asks, sounding more eager for it than Phil might be himself. 

His arm is probably getting sore, but he's a trooper and Phil isn't selfless enough to say he can stop. 

"Yeah," Phil gasps, and reaches up to play with his own chest again. He leans his whole body back into Dan's and feels Dan's dick digging into the crack of his ass and looks out at their city and comes. He watches with shameless abandon as it streaks down the window then giggles giddily to himself as he makes a bet in his own mind how many minutes it'll take Dan to decide that needs to be cleaned. 

*

(Four minutes and thirty seven seconds.)

*

They do make it into bed for the rest; Phil cradled between Dan's legs giving him a blowjob that Phil puts his all into. 

He does love this. Not in the tireless way Dan does, but in ways that matter all the same. He loves Dan's cock in his mouth and Dan's noises in his ears and Dan's taste on his tongue. He loves rubbing his hands up Dan's thighs and feeling the friction of the sparse hair there, and the tickle of Dan's pubes against his nose, and the greedy bossy way Dan tells him more and harder and right there. 

He loves the sharpness of come when it hits his tongue and the way Dan melts into a puddle of boy just right for Phil's arms to hold after he kisses his way up. 

*

"Still too hot," Dan says, kicking the blanket off. 

Phil - half asleep and feeling just fine - whines. "I was using that."

"Shut up," Dan says. "No you weren't." 

"Was too. I can't sleep without a blanket!" 

Dan sighs and bends over to grab it off the floor. He shoves it at Phil, then rolls onto his side. "Why is my body a fucking furnace?" 

Phil reaches out and pats Dan without looking where. Elbow, it feels like. "To keep me warm in winter." 

"Right, so I live and suffer for the pleasure of Phil Lester, got it." Dan rolls over again, this time on his belly. 

Phil really just wants to sleep. "Mhm," he agrees, halfway gone again already. 

"You're useless," Dan informs him. 

"Mhm," Phil agrees again. 

He feels a kiss on his shoulder. "Useless Lester. That's your name now." 

"'s nice." He probably won't remember this in the morning. 

"Go to sleep, Useless. Love you." 

"Mhm." Phil breathes in and out deeply. "'night, Dan." 

He doesn’t mind the heat that much.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to waveydnp for always encouraging me to post things i write even when i drag my feet <3
> 
> [read and reblog on tumblr](https://alittledizzy.tumblr.com/post/186584365300/thirty-eight-point-one-degrees-rated-e-21kits)


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